Froggie, I'm home! Hi, little fella.
I got some nice juicy flies for you.
Geez, Louise.
Look at this mess.
I told that boy a billion times to pick up his jun-- I like to play with you.
- My back.
- I like to play with you.
- There goes my back again.
- I like to play with you.
I like to play with you.
I like to play with you.
- I like to play with you.
- Go get help, boy.
I like to play with you.
I like to play with you.
I like to play with you.
- I like to play with you.
- Oh, Maggie.
My poor back.
I like to play with you.
I like to p-- I like to play-- - Dad! Homer, what happened? Oh, the boy.
Bring me the boy.
Bart, if you had cleaned up your room when I asked you to, your father's trick back would still be aligned.
So, you'll pick up this mess right now.
Clumsy Homer.
Everything's always my fault.
If he'd just watch out where he was going.
Hello.
What have we here? Hello.
What have we here? A cherry bomb.
I thought I blew all you guys up.
People, people, no rough-housing on the monkey bars.
You there.
Tuck in your shirt.
Watch it.
I saw that.
You certainly have done awfully well for yourself, Spanky.
Mother, please don't call me Spanky on school grounds.
- Wow! A cherry bomb! - What are you going to do with it, Bart? - Watch out, Bart.
It's Skinner! - Uh-oh.
Good morning, Mr.
Skinner.
Morning, boys.
Why haven't you introduced me to your students, Spanky? - Well? - Mother, I would like you to meet Milhouse, Lewis, Richard and Bart Simpson.
This is the Bart Simpson you're always talking about? - Mm-hmm.
- But he looks so sweet.
- I am, Ma'am.
- Simpson! Let's move on now, Mother, shall we? - I am, Ma'am.
- Simpson! Let's move on now, Mother, shall we? - Bye, Spanky.
What can I say? I've got a weakness for the classics.
I think I need to make a stop at the little girls' room.
Okay, Mother.
This way.
So long, sucker.
- Now hold it right there, you little-- Mother? - Spanky? Oh, Marge, I still hurt.
Marge.
Marge! Oh, Homer.
How many times do I have to fluff your pillow? Actually, I was wondering if you could make me a grilled cheese sandwich.
- Well, okay.
- Make sure it's squished flat and crunchy on the outside.
I know how you like 'em, Homer.
And maybe some of those little wieners that come in a can? Oh, and some fruit cocktail in heavy syrup.
Marge.
Marge.
Marge, get the door! Principal Skinner! Hello, Mrs.
Simpson.
I'm afraid there's been - a very disturbing incident at school today.
- I'm outta here.
Homer, Principal Skinner is here.
Hello, Principal Skinner.
I'd get up, but the boy crippled me.
Mm-hmm.
I understand completely.
The disturbing incident I was referring to happened this morning when your son flushed an explosive device down the boys' lavatory.
- That ol' gag.
- Unfortunately, at the same moment, my mother was in the girls' lavatoy making use of the facilities.
- Oh, dear.
- Mr.
and Mrs.
Simpson, we have transcended incorrigible.
I don't think suspension or expulsion will do the trick.
I think it behooves us all to consider deportation.
Deportation? You mean kick Bart out of the county? - Hear him out, Marge.
- Well, perhaps I was being a tad glib.
Let me explain.
Our elementary school participates in a foreign exchange program.
Normally, a student is selected on the basis of academic excellence or intelligence, but in Bart's case, I'm prepared to make a big exception.
And if you're willing to play along, he can spend the next three months studying far, far away.
Sounds great.
Although, a kid can't learn much in just three months.
Homer, you didn't even ask where Bart would be going.
Actually, he'd be staying in France, in a lovely chateau in the heart of the wine county.
But Bart doesn't speak French.
Oh, when he's totally immersed in a foreign language, - the average child can become fluent in weeks.
- Yeah, but what about Bart? I'm sure he'll pick up enough to get by.
And, uh, the whole thing won't cost you a dime, as long as you're willing to take in a student of your own.
Wait a minute, Skinner.
How do we know some principal in France isn't pulling the same scam you are? For one thing, you wouldn't be getting a French boy.
You'd be getting an Albanian.
- You mean all white with pink eyes? - No.
No, no, no.
A student from Albania.
It's a county on the Adriatic Sea.
Well, going to France sounds like a fantastic opportunity, but I think Bart should have a say in this.
The life of a frog.